Infestation 11.8

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I could see Dr. Q grow more irritated with every person that filed into the office.

Ten people in total. There were the eight that we’d all packed into the car and fake ambulance Coil had sent. Lisa, me, Bryce, Charlotte, Minor, Senegal, Jaw and Brooks. Two more, our drivers, had stepped in to verify everything was okay before leaving to stand guard outside the front of the building.

The good doctor took one look at our group, ordered us to put Bryce on the first bed, then sighed and said he’d patch the rest of us up when he was done with the boy. Lisa suggested me for the next in line, which means I was made to sit down on the bed in the far corner. It wound up working out on several levels, because it gave Lisa a chance to talk privately with Minor, and it gave me a chance to have words with Charlotte.

Dr. Q ordered the remainder of Minor’s squad to leave until they were called in, which meant there were more people standing guard outside. I wondered if it was reaching the point where the guards would attract more problems just by virtue of drawing attention to themselves than we’d face otherwise.

Charlotte looked spooked. Maybe rightly so. She had to be aware that she was privy to information and details to a degree that we couldn’t just let her go.

I moved into a cross legged position on the bed, adjusting the pillow behind me to keep the headboard from rubbing against my back. I pointed, and told Charlottte, “Sit.”

She obeyed, but she sat on the edge with her legs dangling, her body twisted to face me, as if she wanted to be able to run at a moment’s notice.

After some consideration, I frowned and told her, “I don’t know what to do with you.”

“You don’t need to do anything?” She made it a question, a request.

“You’re the first person who knew me that knows about this.” I paused. “Or knew of me.”

She looked down at her hands, “I- I don’t… I didn’t see anything.”

“Charlotte,” I frowned, “Look up at me. Meet my eyes.”

Reluctantly, she did.

“I’m not stupid,” I told her. “And as cute as that whole cliche is, you and I both know you saw everything. This is serious.”

She looked at the scene to our left, the doctor, Bryce, Lisa and Minor. Leaning towards me, she whispered, almost plaintive, “Why did you bring me here?”

“Because you’d already seen too much. There was no avoiding it. We couldn’t hide it from you without leaving you behind, and neither of us wanted that to happen, right?”

She shook her head with a glum expression on her face.

Seeing that, I answered her question from before, “I brought you here because I wanted you to know that our group isn’t just a few kids in costumes running around. We’re an organization.”

“I don’t want to know this!” she said, clutching her pants leg in her hands.

“You need to,” I started. I was about to go on to say something more, but I was distracted as another group of soldiers entered the room. They carried a white cooler between them, and set it at Bryce’s bedside. I lost my train of thought as I watched to see if Bryce was okay.

The cooler was opened, and bags of blood were hung on the wall beside Bryce. Once that was done, the soldiers wordlessly carried the cooler out the door.